Tutoring the Bad Boy (Completed)

19. Goodbye.

Chapter 19.

Goodbye.

~~

"Why am I here?" I asked furiously for the final time.

"I already said I am saving you right." Ace groaned, leaning back on the bed.

I kicked his legs hard, making him fall of the bed. He let out a shriek of pain as he pulled the plain blanket down with him.

"Damn woman, it's just 6.30 in the morning. Too early for this shit." He rubbed his ankles which had hit the corner of bed.

"I don't care. I am awake from 5.45." I reminded, scowling at him.

"I hate girls on periods." He muttered under his breath.

I threw a pillow at him. "Don't piss me off more." I warned him.

"Fine, can I at least take a shower?"

I nodded, throwing his towel at him. "Hurry up. I am hungry too. Get some chocolates."

He went into the bathroom, saying something like 'I hate this'. Nor do girls love it but we don't grumble about it, at least try not to. Sometimes I just don't understand why blood needs to come out, why can't it be something nice . . . like fairy dust or something?

I leaned back on the bed. I had already showered and dressed up for school. It was the third day of my periods and the worst one. Ace had somehow managed to avoid the topic of staying in the motel and Anastasia but now I was done with being ignored. I wanted answers and I wanted them now. By hook or by crook.

Ace finally came out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. I blinked. Holy shit!

My eyes swallowed the sight shamelessly. Water drops on his tattooed naked hard chest like dews on leaves, extremely beautiful. I stared in wonder at his tattoo, a black dragon breathing fire on his chest. The flames dropped up to his navel and then stopped. Thankfully it didn't cover the whole chest only the centre part and the flames weren't extremely blazing yet looked real. I didn't really like tattoos but somehow on him, it looked smoking hot!

A drop of lucky water rolled down from his neck to the chest and to his firm stomach and disappeared inside the towel. I gulped when he bent to remove his clothes, his derrière winking at me in mock suggestions as he removed his clothes from the bag.

My dirty mind filled with the thoughts of bed, me and him, all tangled in a lovely mess of satisfaction and bliss.

He finally stood up and wore a black tee; I ignored the pang of disappointment. I was enjoying the view! Just as he was about to remove his towel and wear a jeans, I squeaked. "Are you going to change here?"

He smirked at me. "You can always turn around."

"Oh . . . uh yeah, of course." I stammered, slapping my face mentally.

"Am I making you nervous?" He asked mockingly as he took a step forward, his fingers lightly tugging the towel making it loosen.

I instantly scouted backwards. "Bah, of course not." I lied, turning my flaming face away.

Get a grip over your raging hormones, Joanna!

"All done." He said, sitting on the bed.

I turned back. His black tee hugged his muscles, making them more bulging and his shorts showed off his lean legs. He looked hot, with or without clothes.

"I do, don't I?"

My eyes widened. "I said that loudly?" I asked in horror.

He grinned, winking at me. "You expressed your real thoughts about me."